Different
by Make Another Selection
Summary: At the newest opened place, the animatronics are renewed, old and new. But they have upgrades, and one whom was thought dead is back. How different can they be, when they look like a smaller version of the Marionette? Different enough to recognize exoskeletons and humans as different. Meet Nettle, the Miniature Marionette. R&R
1. Chapter 1

Hello! This is an Oc centered story. Please stand by as I update at a snails pace. ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

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><p><em>"Hey, whatcha doing?" The tall being looked up, meeting a face only minutely different from his own. He smiled, patting next to him. <em>

_"I'm just working on something," He said, focusing back on the paper in front of him. The smaller form sat next to him, cross-legged; Mismatched eyes focused on what the other did and smiled._

_"It's really good. I wanna draw like that!" The exclamation had him swelling with guilt and pride. Guilt for what the elder had said, and pride for having caused the younger to not grow like him. He scratched his cheek, shaking his head in amusement._

_"I... I hope you aren't still upset with me... for yesterday?" The other looked startled before looking down and away._

_The smaller shook his_ _head, pulling his knees to his chin. "I-I just wish you'd all believe me... They aren't... They aren't exoskeletons. They're the same as the people who come in and out of here on a daily basis..." The other frowned, brow dipping down to express his anger at the subject. Turning to him, he fixed his white gaze on him._

_"Not this again, Nettle. Those people are never here after dark, so how could it be one of them?" Nettle stood, moving away from the other quickly. The taller's expression softened at the sight, going to a somewhat sad expression. He reached out, opening his mouth to apologize. _

_Nettle shook his head, hands clenched in front of him. "I-I'm sorry Marion, I'm already gone!" And with that scampered from the prize corner. Marion stood slowly, going to chase him but stopping. He shouldn't have snapped at Nettle the other day. Endo had razzed him and both Freddy's had joined in, then came after him to try and find out what the youngers deal was. Marion could only say he would speak to the miniature marionette, hoping it would appease them enough to leave the other alone._

_It had evolved into a screaming match and eventually him insulting Nettle and his friends; Nettle hadn't taken to kindly to that and had ended up trying to hit or maim him. _

_Marion had trapped him in his box beside his, and the next day, Nettle had proceeded to stay as far from the prize corner as possible. It seemed it would only get worse from here on out._

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><p><em>The scream from one of the rooms had the animatrons staring. There was no nightwatch, and the shriek was familiar. It was Marion who's identified it first. <em>

_"Nettle?" He practically froze. _

_"NETTLE!" Panic mounted as the behemoth animatronic made towards the back rooms. _

_They followed, Mangle, T.B., and Billy on his heels, and everyone after. It was the supply room, a large, dark stain leading in through the open door. Marion ventured in first, cautious. If it was a burglar, they were as good as dead; but for Nettle to cry out like that... Marion shuddered, thinking of what could have made the other make such a noise. His foot hit something and he went crashing down. Looking back, he had hoped it was a spare part, but scrambled back. One of the smaller animatron's legs was lying there, still sparking at some of the ends of the wires. The illuminated enough for them to see what was left of the other leg, mangled and twisted at an odd angle. The other's stared at it in shock before Billy had come to help hurry the search. They found the other's arms, as ruined and dented as the legs, and the feared what else they could find of the smaller._

_What they found in the half hour until opening was what was a breaking point for the older Marionette. The top and bottom half of the small puppet had been ripped apart, and the top of his head had a hideous crack, pieces missing and eyes dark. Large puddles of fluid, oil and others, were built up all around it. _

_Marion could only wish he'd never have to see that sight in the rest of his time, and he sat there, unmoving even as everyone else left, returning to their spots. The owner and a few workers came in and saw the mess, taking the pieces of the destroyed smaller animatron and calling someone, a company, perhaps, and Marion was moved back to his box._

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><p><em>It seemed fitting that the bite happened that day, when they were all rather bleak. Or that the murders happened shortly afterwards. Or that the old place got shut down and they were all packed up and put in storage. <em>

_It hurt._

_It hurt because Marion could never tell the being he called brother he was sorry._

_It hurt because Marion would probably never see him again._

_It hurt because Marion knew he was dead._

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><p>The newest restaurant opening had a buzz of excitement about it, Mike had to think, even though it wasn't open to the public yet. Mike Schmidt, age twenty-one, had worked at Freddy's since he had left high school three years ago. And now, as the senior Night Watch, he had to say he enjoyed the job. It had a rhythm, and it had him on his toes at all time, but there were other's as well. It was odd, being called in on a day off, but he wasn't complaining. His fellow guards were arriving at almost the same time as him. Jeremy and their youngest, a day guard missing three ribs, Azra, had flocked to him from watching some trucks pull in and burly men in white shirts hauling large boxes out.<p>

"Mr. Schmidt! We get some old animatrons added back, ain't that cool?" Azra seemed enamored by the boxes, but Mike raised an eyebrow. The sixteen year old probably just wanted to mess with the circuitry. He'd caused things in the kitchen to blow up before, so they'd need Scott to hold him back. Speaking of Scott, the man was coming towards them now. As it had snowed earlier, they were all bundled up against the cold. Scott stopped beside them and could already tell the brewing chaos in Azra's mind and sighed, putting his only hand on the younger's shoulder.

"Don't even think of it, Azra." Mike had to stifle a chuckle as the younger pouted and looked ready to whine. In age, he was one of the youngest. Scott was pushing forty-seven, he'd been at the old place where Jeremy had worked in '87. Jeremy was about thirty-eight, Mike was, as said before, twenty-one, and Azra was sixteen and the baby of them all. He had been nightshift, but after puncturing a lung and losing those three ribs, his brother almost sued and the boss had moved him to day shift with Scott. Scott had lost his arm one night and got out with only a minute until his shift was over. He was day shift and had been glad to have Azra with him.

Jeremy and Mike, though, were still night shift. They all joked about the animatronics, and Azra's crushing failure a few weeks ago at making them less mobile; he'd crossed the wrong wires and ended up blowing up Freddy. Of course Mr. Fazbear was rather upset with that, almost to the point of firing him, if he hadn't decided to pay for reparations and promise not to pull out wires. It still didn't stop him from opening the panels to cause mayhem.

Scott still left them messages every now and then, so it wasn't too monotonous or too strenuous without another friendly voice. Jeremy seemed happy that the other called still and Mike had to admit the other had a calming effect.

Scott rubbed his stump, sneezing slightly, "S-so, uh, shall we head inside. Mr. Fazbear's going to want us in there to help out."

"Ah, yeah, that's why we were here." Mike frowned, looking as the last box was brought in and (most likely) opened. Jeremy looked jittery to the bone, but he seemed calmer since it was daytime. Azra was already tugging Scott through the open door, Jeremy close behind. Mike smiled slightly. No matter what, they all fit in here, old or new.

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><p>Seeing the old Animatronics all remodeled and reassembled (Freddy especially, those scorch marks were probably hard to get off). The toy versions had new paint jobs and rhinestones in some places, Balloon Boy looked less freaky, Scott had said in relief. Mangle was in one piece, not a bunch of scraps, Jeremy said. The originals had new paint jobs refitted for new fur coverings/ feathers, the works. Endo had been refurbished and shone like new. The Marionette and his box were redone, the thing being taller than any of the humans working there and intimidated and horrified Scott and Jeremy. Azra just wanted to open the paneling and mess around with the wires.

"Ah-HAH! They fixed him perfectly!" Mr. Fazbear's voice had Mike going over to see what the man was talking about. In his arms was what looked to be miniature version of the Marionette Scott and Jeremy seemed so horrified of. It's collar was high enough to cover the chin of it's mask. A red sash was wrapped about it's waist and it was limp against the older man's chest. He sat it on a chair, Azra now coming over to see what they were looking at.

"Azra, help me start him up." the boy leapt at the chance, swinging around the back of the chair and opening the panel. He found the start up settings and switched it on. Closing the panel, he came back around and stood next to Mike as the fingers twitched then the head raised. A white star and heart flickered to life. The flickered briefly before the eyes closed and the head tilted and a smile donned the white mask it wore.

"Hello, welcome to Freddy Fazbear's!" It's voice echoed behind it but the childish note and tone had them jumping back a bit. IT was lifelike, and the only one who seemed to like it was Mr. Fazbear himself.

"He sounds just like he used to! We can reinstate him with his old job-"

"Old job?"

"He used to watch and guide any children who had gotten lost or separated from their parents-"

"No way, Nettle?!" Jeremy had come over and the Animatron looked over at him. Something seemed to click, as the eyes morphed into exclamation points briefly before swapping back to how they had been.

"Mr. Fitzgerald!" The man caught him as he tried to stand up, accepting the hug the small animatron gave him. "Mr. Fitzgerald you're alright!"

"Ahh he still remembers things from before!" The animatron looked over at the owner, and smiled.

"Hello Mr. Fazbear!"

It had eventually evolved into everyone greeting, getting greeted by, and/or getting a hug from the small animatron (Scott especially, the puppet played favorites with them apparently). In the distraction, another activated briefly, eyes blank before flickering white and back to black.

_"Nettle...is alive?"_


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, MAS here! I'm going to make the attempt at updating normally! Let's all try! ٩(●˙▿˙●)۶…⋆

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><p>They'd had everything all set up and in place by night fall. The toy band was in an area for the smaller kids, Marion and Nettle were in the prize corner (Nettle had hidden in his box at the sight of the larger animatron), Foxy and Mangle in the cove, the originals on the main stage, and Balloon Boy by the door. As they locked up for the night, all of them going home and getting ready for the opening the next day, nettle peeked out, watching worriedly. He didn't want to be alone, not with the same animatronics that never believed him and treated him like a child (regardless of how he acted). He could hear them starting to move around outside, and he just curled up in a corner, hoping no one would open the box.<p>

But he never got what he wanted, apparently.

The top was lifted, letting in the dim lights of the prize corner, and he was exposed to the eyes of the people he'd wanted to avoid the most. Toy Bonnie stood there and was helping Marion move the top. When they turned back, he'd curled himself into a ball to make himself as small as possible. Marion reached a hand out, picking him up by the back of his shirt, lifting him out of the box like he used to. He wasn't set on the floor though; No, he was pulled into the other's chest and held there. He didn't move, he was afraid that if he did, he'd be yelled at or something. He remembered the anger in Marion's eyes the night they fought last, and he didn't really know what else to do besides sit there. Nettle felt a slight wetness and heard a 'plip' as something landed on his head. Bringing his head up, he stared in shock at Marion, who's face was red and pained, tears falling freely.

"Yuh-yuh-you're all ruh-right... I'm suh-suh-sorry!" Nettle stared up at him in shock, eyes flipping through emotion before settling on an almost alarmed response.

Marion was crying. MARION was _CRYING_.

Marion never cried. Ever. He was usually drying the smaller's face from a bout of tears.

Yet here he was, blubbering like a lost child to their parents, apologizing for things the other had no recollection of. He kept saying he was sorry for leaving him alone, for letting him get hurt, for letting him be treated like he was.

"Uh-wha-Marion, are you okay?!" He asked, writhing around until he could grab his face and stare at him, brow furrowed to show his worry. The other stared before a new set of tears began falling, and he was crushed harder against the large chest (Being five feet tall and getting crushed by your seven foot counter part was kinda awkward). The other didn't let him go, no matter what he said. Then came a phrase Nettle hadn't expected.

"I thought you were dead..."

He froze, eyes wide in confusion.

"What?" Marion pulled him away and set him on the ground. He leaned over the edge, rubbing at his eye.

"You-you don't remember?" Nettle made a face, brow drawing together as his eyes switched to question marks.

"Remember what?" Bonnie and Marion looked at each other.

"Hon," Bonnie started, the blue rabbit kneeling down to his level, "We found you ripped apart in the storage room. Don't you remember anything?"

Nettle looked between them, not quite understanding. Ripped apart? But he was standing here in one piece. It had to have been only a few days since he fight, why were they looking at him like it had been longer?

"But..."

"But what?"

"It's only been about four days, right? Cause we moved restaurants, so it had to have been only a few days..." Marion and Bonnie looked at each other, then back to nettle, who was looking at himself; He couldn't see any evidence that he'd been torn up or destroyed. He felt the same, maybe a bit more functional than before, but the same. He looked like he always had.

"Nettle... Nettle what day is it?" He looked at Marion, tilting his head.

"August Eighth..."

"And the year?"

"1987?" Bonnie and Marion shared a look before nodding. He didn't remember anything from after running away after their last fight. Bonnie turned him to look at him, Nettle staring confused. He took a deep breath.

"Nettle," He started, "It's January tenth," He paused, taking a moment for that to sink in, "The year...the year is 2007."

Nettle looked between them, making a face, "W-what? No way, that's not true! It can't be!"

"Nettle," Marion said, getting his attention, "It's been twenty years."

"Twenty..." He stared with big eyes, looking at him, voice a whisper, "Twenty...years?" Bonnie nodded, staying close in case he passed out or something.

"It's been twenty years, Nettle. We've been out of commission for twenty years," Bonnie said, keeping a hand on his shoulder, "_YOU'VE_ been out of commission for twenty years." Nettle stared at them with big eyes, mulling over what he'd just been told.

It couldn't be... It had to have been only a few days, a week at most-

But it made SENSE. They looked so new, they looked so... redone.

Nettle stumbled away, feeling like a sudden case of vertigo had hit him full force. He hit the ground on his back, laying there as everything fell into place. They looked so new, he felt more advanced, repaired, they were at a different place, everyone was here...

His world had just come crashing down; He'd been out of commission for so long, but he didn't know why. Or how. Or when he'd went out of commission. Were there any of the children he used to care for when he was in commission still around? Were they all grown up? Were they alright?

_"Come play with us!" _

Nettle's eyes ended up closing and he felt darkness wash over him like a blanket.


End file.
